


Tattered Destiny

by moderatelypanickedbiromantic



Series: Strings of Fate [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Destiel - Freeform, Honeybee - Freeform, M/M, Red Strings of Fate, SPN - Freeform, Soulmate AU, Strings of Fate, dean died in the first one, oh my god they were soulmates, tattered strings of fate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2020-07-29 04:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moderatelypanickedbiromantic/pseuds/moderatelypanickedbiromantic
Summary: Years after Dean Winchester died and went to heaven he returns to the earth as an Angel determined to find the love he was forced to leave behind. But he quickly learns that Castiel is nowhere to be found....





	1. Fallen Angels

It took years, but eventually one human earned his wings. And he flew around the world searching.

He left his brother behind in heaven. Sam had everything he wanted. Eileen and a dog. They were together, happy and free of the uncaring world beneath them. And so Sam’s brother left him behind to search for the piece of himself that he had lost.

The other half of his string that had been torn away.

And as he flew the world continued to turn beneath him, uncaring. But still he looked.

Dean checked their old home first. It still stood even though the years had gone by. Another family lived their now, unaware of the houses history. The now angel watched them for a moment, they were happy. Together. And his heart pinched for the family he had lost, and been forced to leave behind.

He flew on. Cities. Diners. Bars. He checked them all. Hotels and farms. Nothing.

His love. His fallen angel…. Cas… was nowhere to be found. But still Dean kept searching.

He flew across the world twice. Three times. Pyramids. Towers. Oceans. And still there was nothing. Not even a trace of his angels grace. Not a whisper of a trench coat or blue eyes.

Dean found their children, now grey and aging with children of their own. He was a grandfather now, with a great grandchild on the way. And Deans heart burned because he had missed so much. And they had mourned him. And they had inevitably moved on.

And he left them without a word. If they felt his presence the angel didn’t know. He couldn’t come back into their lives now a stranger.

And he searched. He searched and he searched. The world he flew over. Four times. Six.

Still not a sign. Not a breath.

And Dean walked the earth. One year. Two.

Angels begged him to return to heaven. To his brother. To his kin.

But still Dean searched. Six years. Seven.

He sought out witches and werewolves. Vampires.

In his eighth year back on earth Dean returned to his children. He revealed himself to them, young as the day he left. And they stood before him, weathered. Aged. And he asked them.

He begged for news. A word. A sign.

But they had nothing.

“He disappeared,” they said. “We couldn’t find him. He’s gone.”


	2. A Deal Now Paid Full

Dean circled the earth once more. Looking for any sign. 

He summoned demons, begging for answers. The first gave him nothing. The second an old friend long thought to be dead.

“I don’t know where Clarence is. I’ve looked,” the demon admitted. “He’s gone.”

He couldn’t accept that. Castiel wasn’t gone. Dean wouldn’t believe it. He couldn’t.

And so Dean continued to search the earth. And still he found nothing. Until death herself came to him with a whisper. An answer.

The empty had come for Cas. A deal now paid full.

And his angel was as far from his reach as he had ever been. Death separated them both.

So Dean searched for a different answer. One of darkness and nothing. A way into the empty. And a way out.

Death was the obvious option. But one perhaps irreversible.

Castiel has escaped once. Dean could find a way to make it happen again. If only he looked hard enough. Far enough.

He searched through history. Ancient tomes. Spells. Traditions passed on through the ages. Fruitless was his search.

But Dean has time. He had absolutely nothing but time.

Their children however did not. And Dean watched as they continued to age. And as the years passed he buried them all. And he remained physically unchanged. Emotionally he was drained. The years had worn on him. The deaths. The search.

Even still he kept looking.


	3. A Hero Forgotten

Dean Winchester was no longer the man responsible for saving the earth. Years he had spent fighting. And he had long since paid any debts he may have owed. Dean Winchester had done his time as savior. He had paid his dues. But he was truly a hero at heart. And if the people of the world we’re struggling. If someone needed saving from the things that go bump in the night. He would do it. He would take up the mantle of savior again. And again. And he would fight.

So when his efforts to free Castiel from the Empty resulted in the release of the cosmic being onto the helpless souls of the Earth, Dean put aside his search and he fought. And through it all he survived. And once he was done and the earth was saved Angels and Demons alike were free of the Empty. And Dean searched for his lost love once again.

This time Castiel was easier to find. And Dean did. Cast down upon a small Virginian farm watching a honey bee pollinate a Geranium.

Dean watched Castiel with bated breath. His angel looked much the same. Maybe more somber. There was a sadness to his eyes that hadn’t been before.

“Cas?” he finally said, a question for though he knew the angel before him was real it was hard to believe.

But Dean didn’t receive an answer. Castiel didn’t even look his way. Dean cast a glance to the string that once bound them together, hoping it would return. Whole. Yet it still dangled. Tattered. Worn. Broken.

“Cas,” he tried again. And still the angel was silent. He didn’t even glance in Dean’s direction. And Dean waited. He waited for the string that once tied them together to return. And he waited for his angel to acknowledge his presence.

And he waited.

A minute. Two. “Cas,” he said again, his voice breaking as he took a step forward. Still the angel ignored him. Dean approached him and tentatively laid an arm on his shoulder. 

Castiel looked up at him then, confusion burning in his sky blue eyes.

“Who are you?”


	4. Angel of the Lord

A fallen heart. Sunken wings. A lover lost. 

Forgotten.

Dean Winchester had a choice to make. Tell Castiel everything and hope he would believe. Or ease him into the truth with a broken heart.

Dean Winchester had a choice.

He hated choices. Choices left room for error. Mistakes could be made. And Dean couldn’t afford a mistake. An error. Not when it came to Castiel. Not his angel.

He let out a sigh. He let his hand drop from Castiel’s shoulder and he took a step back. 

“My name is Dean Winchester,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “And I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

Words once familiar to the angel before him, Dean hoped would set a course for remembrance. 

However memories were a fickle thing, Castiel's more so than others. And it would take more than a nudge to bring them back. But Castiel did remember a family, two girls and a son. Each grown, now long gone, and with children of their own. And a husband though his face and name he could not recall.

And Dean Winchester, angel of the lord, helped Castiel to find them again. The grandchildren welcomed him back with open arms and confused hearts. How could he not see that the one he was searching for was beside him? But quick glances told them not to say a word. Not yet.

And so they welcomed him back. And they spoke of times and family long since past. And Dean stayed beside him, a quiet comfort as Castiel mourned the children he had lost. And the life that had been stolen from him.

And it wasn’t until a cold winter day spent around a fireplace with the family he had left that Castiel began to remember. A picture here and there of the angel by his side. A wedding. A kiss. A smile. All sprinkled between the pages of an old photo album one of the young ones had found hiding in the attic.

“Dean….” Castiel muttered to himself as his fingers traced over the pages. A thought. A question. “Why… why didn’t you tell me?”


	5. Piece by Piece

And Castiel remembered. They reminisced and they mourned and they talked of the past and all that had happened. Dean told Castiel of his search to find him. Of how he was made into an angel. And of his battle with the empty.

And when night crept upon them they fell asleep in each other’s arms. At peace. Together.

Their string remained tattered. A destiny broken between them. But they had each other. And that was what truly mattered.

Dean awoke before Castiel the next morning. His form… it did not truly need to sleep. And so he rose with the sun. And he set about making breakfast for the family he had once again found. Eggs and bacon. And peanut butter toast. Pancakes for the little ones.

And the house awoke to the smell of it all. And it smelled like home. And peace. And bright happy mornings. It wasn’t until Castiel pulled himself from the bed that things began to fall apart.

Memories gone like smoke in the wind. And Dean Winchester was once again a love forgotten.

Photo books were brought out again. Memories returned. And stories were reshared. And slowly what was once again lost cane back. Only to be gone again the next morning. For days this repeating. Dean losing more and more hope as time went on.

His wings dropped behind him. And his eyes no longer shone. Dull. Fading.

But he vowed to find a way. Castiel was back in his life and that was truly half the journey. Memories had to be a simpler thing….

Or so he believed.

“Who are you?” Castiel repeated. And with each forgotten morning the red string that once tied them together became a little more tattered. A little more worn. Shorter. Broken.

Dean Winchester did not let himself wonder what would happen when it fell away completely.

And so Dean Winchester once again searched for salvation. An answer. A clue. Something. Anything.

He was lead to demons. Witches. Shamans. Old friends and new. Fruitless was his search.

And bit by bit his string was falling away completely. And still Castiel did not remember him. Never fully. Never for longer than a day.

And slowly Dean began to lose hope.


	6. Fickle Things

An angel appeared before Dean suddenly, as he was wondering if all hope was lost, offering salvation.

“Meg did some digging,” the archangel said. “Castiel lacks grace, as he is now he will never remember.”

An answer. A question. If Castiel needs grace… will any grace do?

Gabriel offered up some of his own as a test. The grace of an archangel being the strongest of all. And Castiel returned to himself… for a time. But it wasn’t long before all was forgotten again. And Castiel was little more than an empty shell falling apart piece by piece. 

It was a temporary fix. A key to a solution.

Meg kept searching for answers, Gabriel by her side. And Dean offered up his grace little by little to keep his angel grounded. Sane. 

But still they hadn’t found a permanent solution. And this would not work forever. And Dean wasn’t sure they ever would. His soul was weak. His grace constantly drained. And he was tired. They all were tired of the constant fight. The constant struggle.

Castiel urged them to let him go. To be at peace. He would be okay. He had gotten to see his love once more. And that was all he could ask for.

Dean refused to give up so easily. But he was weary. And he was lost.

An angel without a guide. A direction.

Without answers.

But still they looked. They searched. And the world around them spun on. Unblinking. Uncaring.

And time went on. And still they were no closer to a permanent solution. But they had hope. And they were determined. With time they would succeed. With time they refused to fail. They would not fail. Not after everything.

And little by little their string returned to them. It started with a tug. A bit of hope. And slowly it grew. And it began to look anew. Though Castiel’s condition remained the same. Neither worse or better.

He relied upon Dean’s grace to get him through the day with his thoughts intact, without it he would slip and stumble. A shadow of who he once was.

Memories were a fickle thing.

The very essence of a soul? Even more so.


	7. A Final Chance

Days. Months. Years went by. With Dean Winchester continuously searching for an answer. He kept himself nearly human so that his love might remember him when the morning came.

Sometimes Castiel would remember. And they could all breathe a little easier.

Other times he’d be trapped in a fog of the empty’s design. His memories locked tight.

Without much hope Dean trudged on. Searching.

Until he was offered a solution. A key to heaven for them both. A mysterious stranger with a powerful aura. And Dean mistrusting but desperate bartered away his grace. The last dregs of his angelic soul.

His final chance.

His only chance.

And Dean spent the coming weeks in agony over his choice. Was he right? Was he wrong? Did he condemn them both to a life without the other?

Their string grew strong. Shiny and new for the first time in what seemed like forever. And Castiel did not forgot.

The reminisced together. Of family. Memories. And days long since passed. Of struggles. And hardships. And wars long won.

And they were together. And they were happy.

And the world was at peace. No monsters lurked within the shadows. Waiting for an unsuspecting soul.

Hell was sealed. Demons kept from walking the earth.

Purgatory and the empty we’re tucked away. Unreachable even by magic.

And heaven sat above the world and watched. No God left to twist things to fit his own desires and visions. The world was no longer a show. Or a novel. A tale to be told. Twisted. Used.

An archangel kept things running, and in order. But the angels were given a will. A voice.

And the world went on. Blind. Uncaring.

And Dean Winchester has the love of his life back. But he was dying. They both were. Growing sicker by the day.

First it started with a cough. And then came the blood.


	8. And the World Turned On

Star crossed angels. Dying together. A story almost complete.

Perhaps Dean Winchester should not have trusted the hooded figure. Perhaps he should not have handed over his grace for a final chance. But he was dying now. Castiel was dying. And there was nothing left to fix it.

Dean Winchester had finally arrived at the end of the line. His angel by his side. And they took solace in the fact that at least Castiel finally remembered. At least they had each other for a little while longer.

Their bodies grew old and wrinkled. Grey. As they shut down. Time catching up with them. Castiel’s faster than Dean’s. 

Still they had each other.

And Dean watched Castiel waste away to dust. Pain in his heart because he had caused this.

In his last moments, Castiel urged him not to shoulder the blame.

Michael’s sword. The earth's defender. Dean Winchester… Did not listen.

And he watched his love disappear from the world. And he followed soon after.

And the world turned on. Blind. Uncaring.

And they found each other once again.

To some it was a paradise. To others it was a simple home in the woods. A simple home full of light and laughter and family.

Dean Winchester had returned home. To his brother. To his children. And to his love.

Everything the same, and yet different.

Where before the burdens of the world weighed heavily on them all, there was light. There was happiness. Peace. And they were together.

Sam had found Eileen again. Bobby. Mary and John. Donna and Jody. Claire. Jack. Kevin. Meg and Gabriel. Balthazar. They were together. They were a family.

And Dean Winchester had his angel. And he had his family.  
And the world turned on. Blind. Uncaring.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
